WEBVTT Kind: captions; Language: en

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Oh, sir, I've gone and done it,
yes, sir, please.

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Nancy nagged at me until
I fought an automobile.

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It come one day last week, and Nancy
hadn't been a-stickled over anything since

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her crazy quilt took a prize at the county
fair, as she was over that joy wagon.

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Well, sir, I felt it in my bones.

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I'd make a fool of myself or soon would,
so next day I built it full of gasoline

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and got all ready to take Nancy, Jim Rawson,
and Elgar Horsons out for a ride.

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I got out the book of rules, and the more
I read it, the less I knew about the

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energy that turned me keen.

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Ha-ha-ha-ha!

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Jim said I had to turn the
crank to shoot it off.

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I turned that crank until my eyes bulged out,
but it wouldn't budge.

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Nancy said the bobbin was
wound too tight or else the

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shuttle was straighted wrong.

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By that time, all pumpkin center was there,
and even it was.

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Like Willie said, I ought to talk
kindly to it and offer some oaks.

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Hank Weaver said I ought to lead it around
for spare until it got to know me, and

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Si Bittengill said maybe I hadn't watered
it yet, and speaking with it, soon

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wanted to offer prayer.

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Well, sir, I grabbed hold of that crank again,
and it flew back and hit me on the

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scenes, and I shot right down
in the yard to think it over.

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And Nancy said the language
I used was just as simple.

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Just same Jim Rawson said,
don't this club go in somewhere?

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We found where it went, and I turned the
crank again, and the darn machine began

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to rear and snark.

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It ran over Hank Weaver's dog, tore a hole
through Willie's picket fence, knocked

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over Si Bittengill's beehive,
and kept right on going.

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Ha-ha-ha! Well, sir,
I worked every lever that machine had, and

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everyone made it go faster.

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Ha-ha-ha! Nancy was a-screaming.

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Ezra Hoskins was a-praying, and it wouldn't
be right to tell what Jim Rawson was

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a-doing, but Nancy said he sounded
like he was talking to the Lord.

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Ha-ha-ha! Just then we went
through Abwhittaker's wheat field

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and saw it on fire.

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It tore down the toll gate,
ripped down one side of the covered wheat, then

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started off to give pictures [...
] and peel four sheep in a cap, and then run

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into a haystack and blowed up. Ha-ha-ha!

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All I got to show for that joyride
is a broken leg, six lawsuits, and

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a mortgage on the farm.

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Nancy said if we ever own another one,
we'll have a regular chiffonie to run it.

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I ain't saying much, but I got a lingering
suspicion that all my joyriding will

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be done on the old buck-bored wagon.

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Ha-ha-ha!